Hey, Kid, we're so excited just to know you'll soon be here. Say, Kid, we're both delighted though that may not seem so clear. -If/Then
It's February 4 and, listen, it's not that a Broadway musical has played any sort of role in your creation or in your being here on this planet at all. Because it has not. But it has played a significant role in my ending up with you. Its themes of loss and moving on and choosing to live every day got me through some really miserable grief with your sister. Its themes of tracing paths left untaken and following twists and turns led me to you.
We're delighted and, well, terrified.
Because, as we know too well, it only takes a second for a baby's heart to stop beating forever. And really, kid, I need yours to keep going. I'm really attached to you already. But I'd be lying if I said that this was how I saw any of this playing out.
Cuz here's the thing...
No. I mean, literally. There's the thing. Your thing. I promise not to put anymore pictures of your penis on my blog. That's the one and only image of your thing that the world will ever see unless you grow up and make some really bad choices. And, yes, let's take a moment to discuss how impressive it is because you are only 21 and a half weeks, kid. MY. HEAVENS. I mean, there are ultrasound pictures where I'm like, "Yeah, okay, maybe I can kind of see that that's a wee wiener but, really, it looks like a blob of umbilical cord or something." But in this case I was like, "Yeah, no. THAT IS DEFINITELY a penis." It was as if you thought to yourself, I'm going to clarify this once and for all. I'm a boy. Take me or leave me.
I've been thinking about your sister for 14 months. Waiting for her. Losing her. Thinking God would bring us another daughter. Honestly, another "thing" wasn't even on my radar. But then, there was you. And we didn't know if you were a boy or a girl but we knew you were Kate's. Her brother? Her sister? Her sibling. Her blood. And blood is hardly an important factor in this family. None of my boys share a drop. But because we love her so much, we instantly loved the idea of you. Boy. Girl. Green alien from Mars. It just didn't matter. I knew I needed to hold you and love you and God would make you what you were. His timing. His will.
Do you understand that even though we never started off with this plan, God did? And I believe that He brought Kate to us because we would never ever have been in a place and space and time to get to you without her. That's some serious orchestration.
He knit you together in your mother's womb and would you take a look at how fabulous you are.
There you are. And I don't know your name. I haven't come up with it yet. I have ideas, most of which your father has vetoed. Listen, he'll tell you that I'm just as picky and stubborn as he is. In fact, he'll try to convince you that I'm even worse. But you heard it here first and this is my blog and I can tell it like it is. (Or revisionist history--whatever.)
So we're planning on surprising everyone. Or, at least, almost everyone. But we'll see how long we can keep the whole thing a secret. At the moment, your grandparents know about you. And that's it. So, with a lot of prayer and a little luck and a forever of waiting, this tiny hand will be holding my finger when this blog goes live in four months.
Until then, I plan to blog the heck out of my feelings. Because I'm scared to death. And I'm excited. And June feels like it's 100 years away, even though I know you'll be here before I know it and I won't be able to remember my life without you.
So grow and thrive and I'll see you in four months. I can't wait until you're in my arms.